


Visits

by sweetmyungsoo



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, closure i guess, i wrote this before the second season aired
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-24 06:47:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6145045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetmyungsoo/pseuds/sweetmyungsoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grant Ward is in custody, and has been labeled a traitor. In turn, each of the members of his team show up to pay him a visit. Simmons, May, Coulson, even Fitz and Triplett. But no Skye. And so patiently he waits for the day she’ll show…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alone

Grant should feel disgusted.

(He does, in fact. At himself.)

Grant should feel regret.

(He does. At never truly telling Skye.)

Grant should feel like a sinner.

(He is. No matter how many times he tells himself Skye is his salvation.)

And so, here he sits in this glass cage for everyone to see. They’re giving him almost as much attention as Loki. They figure he’s going to escape or something.

They’re wrong. He has nowhere to go, and has no home. He has never belonged anywhere, and now the only cause he’s ever blindly to devoted himself to has crumbled, that along with the trust of anyone (and well, everyone) he’s ever met in his life.

Grant is an assassin, a merciless killer, but here when he sits bored out of his mind in a jail cell, there’s nothing he wants more than to be able to kill himself.

_Nothing?_ He argues with himself, thinking of a couple notable exceptions.

Oh, right. He wants to see Skye one last final time.

That is what he tells himself as he closes his eyes, feigning sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! each chapter will be a different character speaking to ward.


	2. Jemma Simmons

When Jemma enters the room early in the morning, it’s not to check his pulse or do anything remotely scientific to him at all.

She’s come to talk, and in the midst of all this, is analyzing him and everything about him.

He wants to cringe at the cold, furious stare she’s giving him, but then again, even when he had a purpose, he could never bring himself to expressively show emotion. He’d been a cold, empty shell of a being then, and was only a shell of that shell now.

He looks up, fixing her with the dark-eyed, hungry stare everyone’s learned to hate. “Why?” is the question his lips form but can’t quite manage to speak.

She understands him nevertheless. “I want an apology.” Her tone is cold, brisk, and professional, the “scientist” voice she could never quite pull off back on the BUS.

They’ve both come a long way from then.

There’s thick 2-inch glass separating him from her, but it feels like the distance is so much more. But he commands his voice to speak, using vocal chords that haven’t been exercised in weeks. It comes out sounding weak. “I’m sorry,” Grant whispers.

“Not for me. For Fitz.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again, more sorrow leaking painfully into his words.

Something about the words is more convincing because her frame relaxes. But her frown does not ease back into a smile. Grant does not think he will be seeing much more of smiles for his future. “He’s in the hospital, suffering.” She spits the word out, like it’s filth, but it strikes home anyway. “Because of you.”

Grant sucks in a breath. Sharp, like everything else about him.

With a sideways glance at him, she adds, “He’s getting better, no thanks to you.”

He stares at her, now lonelier than ever.

She turns, facing away from him. “I would say it was nice to talk to you, but I think you and I both know it wasn’t.”

Those are her parting words as she leaves the room. And it’s those words that he replays again and again for days after she leaves. He shouldn’t care; after all, they don’t care much for him anymore either.

But deep down, Grant Ward knows that Jemma is right and always has been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! next time: melinda may.


	3. Melinda May

If there’s one thing Grant has always admired about Melinda May, it’s the way she’s so much like him. She isn’t as expressive as the other agents, and doesn’t flinch from pain.

Although she is quite expressive in bed, he notes wryly. He wants to smile. He doesn’t.

In she walks, her heels making a hollow noise on the cement. She stands in the center of the room, her right hand encircling her left wrist in front of her body. She is dressed in black—the standard S.H.I.E.L.D gear.

It’s a kind of sick joke for her to be wearing that, especially when there is no SH.I.E.L.D anymore. S.H.I.E.L.D is in tatters, and Grant realizes he has been instrumental in that.

She does not speak, and instead hides behind her aviator sunglasses, her face a cold, cold mask. He stares back at her, through the glasses, and looks for something, anything, even a little warmth. But May has never been warm.

Cold as stone. Just like him.

“Coulson tells me you need some company.”

She always talks about Coulson. She revolves around him. Even now, after she’s betrayed his trust (and somehow gained it back again, he reminds himself bitterly) she stays true and faithful to him. Phil Coulson was that type of man.

Things have been over between them for a while, but Grant can’t help the feeling that he owes her something. He has no idea what, though.

Still, the fact that she of all people was talking about company made Grant want to laugh. “I don’t think I’ll get it.” Grant’s voice is stronger now than it was when he was talking to Jemma.

“You catch on well,” she appraises him, despite everything they’ve been through. He dimly remembers the way Skye called her _, “…a weapon much better than a bomb….”_

His heart sinks for a number of reasons, and he draws his gaze skyward to notice the security camera in the corner of the room. He’s avoided looking at it for a while now. For some reason, the blinking red dot that shows it is constantly recording does not put him at ease.

He voices his thoughts aloud. “Are we being watched?”

A single eyebrows of hers skyrockets. “There is no ‘we’ in this,” she corrects. “But, the answer to your question is yes. They are watching. But luckily, they aren’t watching us. They’re only watching _you_.”

By the end, her lips have pulled back into an almost feral grin.

Grant ignores the many, many shivers traversing his spine. He closes his eyes, but by the time he opens his eyes, May is gone and has shut the door behind her.

He is alone once more.


	4. Phil Coulson

An overwhelming wave of nostalgia overcomes Grant when he sees Phil walk in, wearing a pristine, neatly-pressed suit. He’s wearing the black suit and a white button-down shirt, the outfit he wears normally. Phil is always formal. And he’s so considerate.

He walks in stiffly. He doesn’t smile, so Grant doesn’t have to try to smile back.

Somehow this is worse than an unsmiling May. He has lost Phil Coulson’s trust, and he will never, ever regain it.

“So, how are you?” asks Phil.

The words are surprisingly casual. They’re ice-breakers. They’re words that Grant always says to his marks when he can’t think of anything else to say. It’s after he’s exhausted these ice-breakers that Grant finishes the job. That’s the way he always works.

That’s the way he used to work.

“Okay,” says Grant. It’s nice to see he can still lie. But whether he’s guiltless or whether Phil believes him is an entirely different matter.

“Are they feeding you?”

Grant presses his lips into a grimacing smile, touched that Coulson actually pretends to care. “Yes.” Another lie.

“I keep wondering to myself, do you regret anything? Do you even feel anything?”

“Yes.” The word is croaky.

“She’s not coming for you.”

They both know who _she_ is. “I know,” he whispers faintly.

“Keep that in mind, while the rest of the world moves on. S.H.I.E.L.D is going to be rebuilt. You haven’t caused the end. What you did is only helping us become better. And we’re going to be at the center of it all.” Grant knows Coulson’s talking about the team, the team of six that has been reduced to five. He knows he is not at all a part of his calculations. “Director Fury is dead, but he wants me to be Director. Do you think I should give the job to Maria?”

“It’s your call, Director.” His voice is getting stronger the more people talk to him.

Coulson’s lips twitch. “Goodbye. Don’t waste your time waiting.” And when Coulson leaves, his words finally seem to sink in, and he realizes he’s losing hope.

And the sad part of this: they’ve already lost hope on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! next time: leo fitz.


End file.
